


Awful at Love

by polite_satan



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Fluff, Mentions of alcohol, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16632266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polite_satan/pseuds/polite_satan
Summary: A chance encounter at a party made Adrien believe that maybe he wasn't so bad at love after all.





	1. Coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> This was a pretty self indulgent fic that I decided to write while I was bored in class. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so please enjoy the byproduct of my boredom.

**August 2**

“So, you’re definitely coming to the party right?”

“Well, I mean...I’ll definitely _try_ to come”, Adrien replied, letting out a little sigh. When had he became so busy with life that he’d forgotten about his best friend’s homecoming?

“C’mon dude. I haven’t seen you in like a year.” Noting the note of irritation in Nino’s voice, Adrien let out another, more drawn out sigh, before rolling his chair to his desk. “Can’t you, like, just skip out on whatever model business you have tomorrow night?”

“Give me a second.”

“I’ll give you as many seconds as you want if you say you’ll come.”

Adrien couldn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes as he let out a little snort in response. Picking up his schedule book, he opens it to the page the little ribbon placeholder had been laid in to check if he had any work related obligations before responding. He had a small photoshoot in the afternoon, around 12, and a meeting with his agent at 5 to discuss any plans for the fall season. Other than that, he didn’t see anything that would stop him from going to Nino’s party, as long as his agent didn’t keep him too long anyway.

“So?”

“ _God_ ”, he replied in an over exaggerated tone as he leaned back in his swivel chair, imagining the defeated look on Nino’s face. “I’ve got a photoshoot, then a dinner date with my oh-so-lovely agent, then I have to catch a cab to my best friend’s party and I just don’t know if I can go to yours.”

“You’re such a dick,” Nino laughed, “Man, I can’t wait to see you though. I have so much to tell you!” His friend’s excitement was infectious through phone, he couldn’t help but smile a wide toothy smile as Nino goes on about his exploits and adventures in America. “Oh! And I have someone that I want you to meet, actually.”

Raising an eyebrow, Adrien replies with a quiet, “Oh?” They had definitely been out of touch, if Nino means what Adrien thought he meant.

“Yeah...um, we’ve actually been dating for a while now,” he continues, “before I left actually.”

Thinking back, Nino had probably mentioned seeing somebody before he went off on his all American adventure, but Adrien’s memory was hazy. When he wasn’t struggling to balance his school life with his professional life, he was still helping Ladybug fend off Hawk Moth’s continuous attacks on Paris. It was kind of ridiculous how persistent the villain was in trying to steal their miraculouses, but it’s to be expected; heroes can only be heroes when villains exist.

“I think you told me about her,” said Adrien, attempting to remember anything about his best friend’s mystery girlfriend. “Was it...the cute girl from your literature class?” He felt like such a bad friend.

“I’m surprised you remember,” he said with a chuckle, “but..no. I met Alya in my psych class in my first year. I thought she hated my guts, then we started dating before I knew it.”

“Wow, hating your guts. What’d you do?” Knowing Nino, it could be a myriad of things. His best friend was a really nice and well meaning guy, but he did say and do a lot of things that would seem quite tactless. It’s the reason why his father didn’t allow Adrien to hang out with Nino when they first met, but that didn’t stop them.

“Nothing”, Nino said, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about.”

“ _Right_ , okay. Whatever you say man,” Adrien chuckled. He missed talking to Nino and wished that they could hang out right then and there, but he figured that the other would be dead tired after a 10 hour flight. He probably also wanted to hang out with his girlfriend after not seeing her for a year.

“Anyway,” Nino continued, breaking Adrien’s train of thought. “How’re you and Kagami doing? Is she still kicking your ass at almost everything?”

“No,” he said with a shrug, shifting a little in his seat. “We broke up a while ago.”

“ _Oh_.”

Right. He had neglected to tell his best friend about his now ex-girlfriend. Between him trying to juggle his hectic work, school and superhero schedules and Nino studying abroad, they kept missing each other when things came up, so of course he forgot to mention that little detail.

“Yeah...we broke up,” he replied with another shrug, not knowing how to explain how he felt about the situation. “We’re okay though.” _Okay_ meaning that they still talked occasionally, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t so painfully awkward around each other. Kagami made the effort to check in on him every so often, and he did the same but he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t feel a little off.

“I’m sorry, dude.” Nino remained quiet on the other end, not knowing what to say.

“It’s okay. It’s all in the past,” he reassured. Thankfully, their break up had been an amicable one. Kagami felt like things were going nowhere, and with their conflicting schedules, they couldn’t see each other as often as they should have. Respecting her decision, Adrien simply agreed with her and they broke up after almost a year of dating. He was sure she was a little disappointed that he didn’t fight her on the decision, but he was sure that it wasn’t the first time that he’d disappointed her.

“Well, lucky for you, Alya has a lot of cute friends who’re coming to the party”, he teased, changing the subject. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find the one.”

Adrien laughed, rolling his eyes. “It’d be nice if my life were a romcom, but I’ll be happy just to see my best friend again.”

“Ditto,” Nino agreed. Adrien could hear a female voice calling for Nino in the background, his girlfriend perhaps. Oh well, they’ve been talking long enough, and they were going to see each other later anyway.

“Hey, I’ll see you at the party tomorrow. I don’t wanna keep you from your lady friend,” Adrien teased. “I have a hot date with a kale salad and I don’t wanna keep it waiting.”

“Sure, kale salad. Will that be with or without 3 side helpings of pasta?”

“With, but my nutritionist and personal trainer don’t need to know that,” he replied with a smirk. “Later, man.”

“Later, dude!”

Adrien let out a little sigh as he pulls the phone away from his ear, thoughts filling his head as he sinks lower and lower into his chair. Relationships weren’t something he thought about much these days, mostly because he didn’t want to get into another one for it to inevitably end because he couldn’t make time for his girlfriend or meet her expectations. Thinking back, he’d always been the one being pursued and asked out, he’d never been the one doing the pursuing or courting. The only girl he could think of that he came close to asking out would be his partner in crime, Ladybug, but that would’ve been impossible. 

Ladybug was an amazing, compassionate and kind woman who, he felt, could have any man or woman she wanted, but as she’s stated many times in interviews, she didn’t want a relationship. After years of being asked the same questions over and over again, “Ladybug, are you and Chat Noir an item?” and “Ladybug, would you ever date Chat Noir” and so forth, he understood that he didn’t have a chance—and that was fine. He admired her dedication to keeping the streets of Paris safe and respected her wish to keep their personal and professional lives separate, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she was like without the mask. After years of being partners, he’s seen her grow more and more confident and beautiful by the day that he almost couldn’t remember how clumsy and downright dorky she used to be when they first started saving Paris together. But, he could never forget that, he could never forget their origins. He wondered if he had changed any, but it’d be pointless to ask her.

“You may have grown taller, but you’re still the same reliable Chat Noir I became partners with all those years go,” he mumbled. “That’s what she’d probably say.”

From the corner of his eye, Adrien could see something shifting around on his desk. Plagg, his kwami, was most likely waking up from his cat nap. It was time for dinner.

**August 3**

Using his phone’s front camera as a mirror, Adrien ran a hand through his hair, hoping that it looked alright. After a morning of delays with the photoshoot and a long, drawn out meeting with his agent, Adrien didn’t have a chance to go home and make himself look more like himself. Admittedly, he didn’t look any different with a bit of makeup and styled hair, but it made him feel a little self conscious because it wasn’t how he chose to look on a regular day. He wanted to show up as Adrien Agreste, Nino’s best friend, not as Adrien Agreste, son of world renowned fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, part time model.

The car creeped to a stop as Adrien was contemplating which direction to sweep his bangs. His driver, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, cleared his throat to get Adrien’s attention before announcing, “We’re here.”

Adrien, looking up at his driver then turning his attention to the window, realized that they were indeed in front of Alya’s apartment complex. With one last glance over, Adrien pockets his phone before giving the stern man a quick nod as thanks before getting out of the car.

Walking to the front entrance, Adrien notices the number pad embedded into the wall next to the door and sighs at the realization that Nino had neglected to text him the pin number to get in. Pulling out his phone, he attempts to call Nino to no avail. It kept taking him to voicemail and every single one of Adrien’s texts were going unread. A minute turned into ten and he was beginning to get a little annoyed.

“Um,” he heard a quiet voice from behind. “Do you need help?” The voice belonged to a girl, who he assumed, lived in the complex. She was a head shorter than him, looked about his age and had the deepest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Uh...yeah. Kind of,” he mumbled, brushing his fringe out of his face. “I’m here to see my friend and...um, he forgot to give me the passcode to get in. I’m trying to contact him and he’s not picking up.” He could feel his ears and cheeks heating up a bit when she started giggling.

“Well, someone might think you’re suspicious if you keep pacing back and forth like that,” she replied with a smirk before walking up to the pin pad and quickly inputting the 6-digit code. The door buzzed to inform them that they were now allowed to enter. The nameless girl pulled open the door with a polite “after you” and ushered Adrien in before walking in herself.

“I really appreciate the help, thank you.” He shoots her a smile in return and feels his phone buzz in his hand. Nino finally texted him back.

“It was my pleasure,” she replied with a nod. “Don’t keep your friend waiting and stay out of trouble now.” She points at his phone before bidding him farewell. Before he knew it, she had disappeared into one elevator and Nino had appeared in the other with an excited, “ _Duuuude!_ ”

* * *

The party was already underway when he arrived and, as he’s learned, Nino was dealing with some technical issues that killed the party vibe for a good 20 minutes. People greeted him with casual hellos when he passed by as Nino lead him through the living room turned dance floor.

“Give me a minute,” Nino yelled over the music before walking to the makeshift DJ table at the front of the room. Adrien could only assume who the DJ was, seeing as Nino wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a big kiss on her cheek as she laughed. He couldn’t stop smiling upon seeing how utterly in love they looked; he was happy for his best friend.

After hanging around, bopping his head to the music, for a few minutes, Nino comes back with Alya in tow and pushed them both into the kitchen and away from the festivities. The kitchen was a lot less chaotic than the living room, with a few people just hanging around chatting as they feasted on cheese puffs and pretzels around the drink table.

“So,” he began,” Adrien, this is Alya, my super cool, super cute and super amazing girlfriend.” Adrien and Alya both give each other a slight nod as Nino continued. ”Alya, you’ve seen Adrien practically everywhere, but like I keep telling you, his head isn’t as big in person.”

“He should know about things not being as bi-”

“ _Anyway_ ,” she interrupted, stepping between the two before a friendly beat down broke out. “It’s good to meet you, Adrien!” Alya smiled, offering her hand.

“Same to you,” he agreed as he shook her hand. Adrien can confirm that this was their first meeting, but why did it feel as if he knew her from somewhere. He might’ve seen her around campus, but that would be unlikely since Nino met her in class and he and Adrien went to different universities. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, from the sound of her voice to her appearance, there was something familiar about her.

Introductions turned into casual conversations and casual conversations turned into drunk banters before they knew it. As Adrien’s learned, Alya had quite the mouth on her, sober or drunk, as she took everything he and Nino threw at her and returned it tenfold. Nino was the same as ever from the way he danced slightly offbeat to the way he fell all over himself when he’s had too much to drink. It felt like the old times, but the difference became pretty apparent when Nino and Alya started openly flirting with each other in their drunken stupor. It was like Adrien wasn’t sitting right there. Before he knew it, they were whispering and giggling among themselves, leaving him as the awkward third wheel.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” he yelled over the music before getting up and out of his seat. “Do either of you want anything?” No response. He doubts they could hear him, seeing as they’re lost in their own little world now. Adrien took it as his cue to leave when they started getting a little more physical on the couch. Had he ever been like that with his ex-girlfriends when they were too drunk and too giggly to notice anything else? 

The kitchen was more of a mess than he remembered. Beer cans and stray pieces of chips laid haphazardly on the floor waiting to be crushed, empty bottles lined the counter like soldiers and a single girl sat on the floor with her legs pulled close, sipping from a wine bottle while playing a game on her phone. His stare lingered on her for a moment. He felt like he knew her from somewhere, but he again didn’t know from where. _Why am I forgetting everyone today?_ He thought, still staring at her.

Their eyes met for a brief moment when she looked up, a smile slowly creeping its way onto her flushed face.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said, returning her attention to her phone game.

Adrien only had to see the deep blue in her eyes to remember who she was—she was the girl who helped him earlier that evening.

“Yeah,” he replied, still collecting his thoughts. After a long pause, he added,”Hi, again.”

“Hi, again” she giggled, giving him a little wave. “I take it that your friend’s at this party?”

“Well, he’s the one throwing it so,” he replied with a shrug. “Or, he’s the one it’s being thrown for…” Adrien could hold his liquor a decent amount—heck, this was only his third drink in 2 hours, so it was a wonder to him why he was struggling to speak in a cohesive manner. “He’s Nino and this is his party, which is also being thrown...for him.” None of that sounded right at all. “Yes.”

“I’m glad that you made it then.” The smile from her lips never faltered as she watched him with an amused gleam in her eyes.

“What about you?” he asked, ignoring the heat that was beginning to bloom on his cheeks. “I’m more surprised to see you here.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she answered with a shrug. “You saw at the door, I kind of...live here.” Glancing around the kitchen, she added, “ _Here_ , here.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster. “You’re Alya’s housemate.”

“And the person who has to clean this up in a few hours.” She nodded.

“Well, ‘person who has to clean this up in a few hours’, I’m Adrien,” he said, closing the distance between them as he offered his hand. “Adrien Agreste.”

“Marinette,” she replied, accepting his hand. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng”


	2. Acquainted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter uploaded before I left for Thanksgiving break. Excuse the minor errors, just think of it as a sprinkle of character through this mostly proofread chapter.

**Chapter 2**

 

Adrien came to learn a few things about Marinette after spending some time with her. One, she couldn’t stand to drink beer because it gave her a horrendous case of the hiccups. Two, all of the beautiful plants that lined the balcony belonged to her. Three, she was _insanely_ good at video games, specifically multiplayer fighting games.  

Everyone sat in anticipation as they watched Adrien lower Marinette’s HP bar down to the red, finally getting the upper hand, he felt like he could actually win against her after 3 straight losses. Adrien was decent at video games, especially any and every version of Mecha Strike, but he wasn’t as skilled as Marinette who pulled out combos and feints like nobody’s business. He didn’t even know how she did half of the things she did, which was how she quickly lowered his HP bar to an equally critical level. Adrien clicked his tongue, now getting serious as he went for the finishing blow—only to have her evade it and back away.

“Is that all you got, pretty boy?” she taunted, a mischievous grin blooming on her lips.

“You think I’m pretty?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the screen. “I like to think of myself as more handsome than pretty.” Adrien attempted to close the gap between their characters to no avail. Everytime he got close enough to land a hit on her, she would simply dodge or block and run away. Seeing how aggressively she played the last few rounds, Adrien was confident that she was just messing with him now, her laughter growing in the background. _Okay,_ he declared, _if you wanna play it like that…_

Letting out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding in, Adrien ceased his button mashing and ran away from Marinette’s character. If he couldn’t land a hit on her, the least he could do was counter her attacks. Both of their characters stop moving for a moment before Marinette goes on the offensive once again, Adrien ready to block and counter any of her attacks only to have Marinette use her ultimate finisher on him, which was, _unfortunately_ , impossible to block. In the background, he could hear people cheering and clapping their hands to congratulate Marinette on her untarnished win streak. Adrien simply stared at the flashing _K.O_ on the screen, mouth slightly ajar. He was too focused on landing the final blow that he unknowingly helped her charge her finisher gauge — _oops._

“Rematch!” He declared, receiving groans in return. Nino grabbed the controller out of his hands and handed it off to someone else in the small group gathered around the TV. “Hey!”

“I think you’ve had _more_ than enough kickass unleashed on you tonight.” Nino placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before pulling out a half empty bottle from behind his back. “Be a graceful loser and I won’t make you take another shot.” Adrien shivered when he saw the bottle of Pinnacle in his friend’s hand, the burning feeling imprinted in his mind and throat.

“I’m good!” Adrien held up his hands, Nino gave him a satisfied nod before returning to the crowd to see who wanted to play the next round. Marinette settled in her seat next to him on the couch as the next match began between a girl named Alix and a guy named Kim. They sat in silence, faint music and the sound of buttons being mashed surrounding them. Adrien turned to look at Marinette and Marinette did the same.

“Good game."

“You’re way too good,” replied Adrien with a smile, the bitterness of losing 4 times in a row slowly melting away. “Like a pro.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She shook her head. “I just had a lot of free time when I was in high school. My dad and I would play Mecha Strike almost everyday whenever he had time and...I watched _way_ too many YouTube videos on how to do combos to get better.”

“Better than me,” he laughed. “I just button mashed my way to victory until I picked up on some of the combos.”

“You’re not bad though,” she giggled. “Especially after 3 shots, you’re definitely not bad. I feel like you could give me a run for my money if you played sober.”

“If the chance ever arises, I’ll gladly kick your ass.”

“You know where to find me,” she said with a wink.

The match between Alix and Kim wasn’t as intense as the one between him and Marinette, but the atmosphere felt a lot heavier than before. The two sat side by side in front of the TV, eyes focused on the screen as they pecked away at each other’s HP bars. Unlike Marinette, neither of them pulled out any over the top combos that would turn the tide, rather Kim kept using the same moves in quick succession that Alix had failed to dodge. Before they knew it, Alix was gulping down vodka like a champ, not flinching or cringing as Adrien had every single time he lost.

* * * 

Round after round, loser after loser until Nino declared that he was out of vodka and that their  game was over. _About time_ , Adrien thought. It was nearing 1 in the morning and the party was beginning to wind down with everybody significantly more wasted than they had probably intended. Adrien stifled a yawn, ready to pass out on the couch before feeling some movement in his shirt pocket.

“Hey, where’s your bathroom?” He asked, turning to Marinette who let her hair down, blue-black strands cascading down her shoulders and back.

“Down the hall, door all the way at the end,” she responded, running her fingers through her the hair, trying to comb out the knots that appeared.

“Thanks.” Adrien got up and proceeded down the narrow hallway and let out a sigh of relief when the bathroom was void of any party goers—Plagg would’ve yelled his ear off if he kept him trapped in his shirt pocket any longer. Locking the door behind him, Plagg few out of his fabric prison and took a deep breath.

“Finally!” he exclaimed, “Were you _trying_ to kill me?” Not that it could happen, Plagg was immortal after all.

“Sorry,” Adrien mumbled. “I’ll get you as much camembert as you want when we get home.”

Crossing his arms, Plagg shook his head. “I won’t be bought out by camembert this time! It’s hot in your pocket. You reek of alcohol and your heartbeat’s ruining what little sleep I can already get in that _pocket prison_.” The kwami huffed, crossing his arms. “Slow, fast, slow, fast—make up your mind!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he sighed, shooting his partner an apologetic look. “I’ll do anything you want when we get home, just...please bear with it for a little while longer.” Adrien didn’t want to leave yet, not when he was actually having fun for once. Besides, coming home to an empty house would sour anyone’s mood significantly.

Plagg, sensing how much Adrien wanted to stay out, let out a little sigh. “You owe me _a lot_ of camembert when this is over. The good stuff from the deli next to the office, I won’t settle for any less.”

“Thanks, Plagg,” he smiled, making a mental note to pick some up whenever he was around the area. “You gonna be okay for a few more hours? Do you want some fresh air at least?”

“I’ll be fine—suffocated but fine,” Plagg smirked as he returned to his stuffy home away from home. Adrien had always felt really bad keeping his partner cooped up in his shirt pocket when he was out and about for extended periods of time, but he didn’t know where else to keep him when he didn’t have his bag.  Patting his shirt pocket, he exited the bathroom, hitting someone as he opened the door.

“Oh, shit. Sorry!”

Marinette emerged from the other side of the door, rubbing her nose with an annoyed groan. “I’m glad to see that you’re doing alright.” She sighed, annoyance quickly draining out of her body. “You were taking forever, I thought you were vomiting your guts out or...something.”   

“Thanks for worrying about me,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. “But, I’m okay. I can hold my liquor pretty well.”

“You can hold it but not take it,” she teased, smile returning. “It’s getting really hot in here. I’m gonna get some air—care to join me?” The apartment was pretty stuffy with everyone crammed in there, even if all the windows in the living room and kitchen were open.

“That sounds nice,” he nodded, following after her as she walked through the living room and to the kitchen. The level of mess remained about the same, only now most of the chips on the ground were crushed and more empty bottles and cans lined the counter top and dining room table. Marinette unlocked the door leading to the balcony, cool, crisp air hitting his face once she opened the double doors— _shit,_ that felt nice.  

“Sorry for the clutter,” she mumbled, moving a few of the smaller plants to the side so they had room to stand. Adrien shook his head, he didn’t mind but it did surprise him just how many plants there were. It didn’t look like much from the kitchen, but once he stepped onto his spot on the balcony, he was surrounded by greenery. Tomato plants and sunflowers sat by his feet, delicate pink and white flowers planted in boxes hanging on the railing greeted him when he looked down; he could tell that Marinette put a lot of love and effort into keeping her plants happy and well.

Although the view from Marinette’s balcony wasn’t as breathtaking as the view from the Eiffel Tower, the cool breeze and her company made it pleasant all the same. The street lights illuminated the lonely street below them, giving Adrien an odd sense of nostalgia. It reminded him of the few times he would wander around the city after finishing a round of patrol with Ladybug. Ladybug rarely stuck around to hang out with him those days, often saying that she had to be up early and needed her beauty sleep, not that he ever believed that—she always looked beautiful. He, on the other hand, could deal with looking like a sleep deprived wreck at school and work. His stylists often nagged him about how he should take more care of himself and get more sleep, but he would just zone out as they worked on him.

Adrien looked over at Marinette, wondering what she was thinking about as she stared ahead, arms crossed as she leaned over the railing. Was she feeling as nostalgic as he did or was she thinking about the mess she had to clean once all of this was over? He didn’t even realize he was staring at her until it was too late.

“Do I have something on my face?”  

Adrien nodded, bringing his hand up to her face before flicking her nose lightly. “Yeah...but it’s gone now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes before nudging him with her elbow. “ _Gee,_ thanks.”

“Did you grow all these plants yourself?” He asked before they settled back into a semi-awkward, semi-comfortable silence.

“Yes and no,” she shrugged, a thoughtful look appearing on her face as she went on. “I started growing them on a whim in high school, but I sucked at it, like, everything would die within a few weeks. A good friend taught me how to properly take care of them and now I can grow just about anything, as long as it’s in season.” Marinette let out a small sigh as she brushed a long strand of hair out of her face. “Without her, I probably wouldn’t be able to do most of the things I can now, so I owe her a lot…”

“Wow,” he mumbled. “I wouldn’t have expected Alya to have a green thumb.”

Marinette snorted, “ _No_ _—_ not Alya. A different friend. Alya’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I still haven’t forgiven her for killing my geraniums.”

“Okay, to be fair, _I_ would’ve also killed your geraniums...and your tomatoes, those pink ones and...just about _everything_ here,” he declared proudly. Adrien didn’t even know what half of the plants were, let alone their names. There were tomatoes and sunflowers resting near his feet and a bunch of daisies and tulips tucked into the corner but everything else was lost on him.

“I’ll keep that in mind when I’m looking for a plant sitter, besides...” she trailed off, propping her chin up with her hand. “I figured that gardening wouldn’t be your thing anyway.”

“Oh?” Adrien asked, moving to mimic his partner’s pose. “What would be my thing?”

Marinette let out a long “mmm” before opening her mouth to answer, only to close it when she couldn’t formulate a coherent sentence. “Well…” she began after a few moments of thought, “You seem like the type of guy that…sort of—um...” She refused to meet his gaze.

“Yes?” Adrien batted his eyelashes, invading Marinette’s personal bubble as he leaned closer to her. “I’m the type of guy that…?”  

“Oh my god,” she groaned, obviously a little flustered as she attempted to lean away “Okay, there’s no way of making this sound nice, but you look like you...get around?”  

Adrien stared at Marinette in bewilderment before letting out a little chuckle before he backed off, clearly amused. That was a fair assumption considering his profession and how people perceived models to be when they aren’t busy being sentient Barbie dolls, but alas, he was too awkward to fall into that stereotype. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten that and it surely wasn’t the last, but it never failed to make him laugh a little on the inside.

“A lot of people think that, yeah.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, eyes still not meeting his. “With the way some of the girls flocked to you in there and how you’re just—”

“Would it be disappointing if I told you that I don’t _get around?_ ” Adrien cut her off, completely nonchalant about the whole thing. He knew what type of person he was and that was all that mattered, but explaining it to other people was always a pain because it always seemed like they never fully believed him.

Marinette’s eyes flickered to him for a second before looking elsewhere, avoiding his gaze as he stared at her.

Adrien let out a quiet sigh, shifting his attention to the building across the street, voice low as he spoke. “I don’t have _any_ time to myself, actually. I only model part time, but there’s a lot that goes into it so that I stay at the top of my game. I also have to keep my grades up so my father will let me stay enrolled in university, and that’s on top of his other wild demands…” Music lessons, fencing practice, learning a foreign language—they all seemed so fun at one point, but now they felt like chores he had to finish before his father got home. “I wish I had time to do nothing, hang out with friends...and maybe even sleep around.” He shrugged. “I don’t know...I couldn’t even make time for my girlfriend when she was my girlfriend.”

Adrien didn’t mean to sound whiny and pathetic, but the words just kept coming out of his mouth and wouldn’t stop. Perhaps it was the bit of alcohol still in his system that was making him more talkative, or maybe he just wanted to vent to someone that wasn’t Plagg. It didn’t matter, he felt a little better having said everything out loud. “Sorry,” he excused, turning to smile at Marinette as if he hadn’t just unloaded his feelings, “just talking to myself.”

Marinette finally looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Maybe that was too much, he thought. They did just meet. He was prepared to play it off as a joke and blame it on the alcohol but stopped when she closed the distance between them and leaned her head on his shoulder, as if to comfort him.

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t have assumed that you were a...playboy?”

“It’s okay,” he reassured, “but you shouldn’t go around assuming things about people, especially if you’re going to work with them.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked confused, lifting her head slightly to look at him.

“You’re a designer, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “How’d you know?”

“I saw your plaque in the living room,” he chuckled, giving her a warm smile. “First runner up, Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng, spring of 2016—then there are the medals and ribbons next to that _and_ the sketches on the fridge." 

“Oh, right. _Those_.” Marinette groaned, burying her face into the palms of her hands, hiding the obvious redness that was beginning to creep up to her ears.

“You’re really good.” Adrien wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulder before pulling her closer as an attempt to coax her out of hiding.

“Thanks,” her voice came out muffled, “I love fashion and making clothes, but I haven’t entered any competitions for a year now.”

“Why?” His grip around her tightened.

“Because,” she squeaked, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Marinette sighed, shooting Adrien an annoyed look once she dropped her hands. “My inspiration’s gone—shriveled up like a dried prune. Like...everything that I make just feels lacking.” She shrugged, all the previous tension in her body quickly disappearing before she stood limp in Adrien’s hold. “Alya says it’s your typical case of artist’s block, but I’ve never gone this long feeling so...unmotivated.”

“Well...maybe you just need something to motivate you.” Adrien knew it was harder said than done but with Marinette’s potential, he knew getting her inspired and motivated to design again would be worth it in the end. He didn’t care to know the rules and formalities of fashion design, but as a model, he’d want to wear Marinette’s designs without a doubt.

“Yeah, tell me when you find it,” she grumbled.

“Well...” he trailed off, letting her out of his grasp before he accidentally crushed her to death. “What if I say that it’s standing next to you right now?”

“Are you saying that you’re what I need?” she gawked.

“I liked what I saw on your refrigerator and I’d love to wear your designs.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, giving her his award winning smile. “ _Se_ _riously._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't the most eventful or exciting, but I had a lot of fun writing it.


End file.
